


Sweet Dreams

by IndigoBloom



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-09-30 20:19:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17230574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoBloom/pseuds/IndigoBloom
Summary: Nicole never thought that she would amount to anything. But, in a twist of fate, her role in the universe goes from minimal to major…





	1. Rock Bottom…

"Hi, welcome to McDonald's!" I say into my headset, "Can I-"

"No, you can't," the person in the drive-thru says, "I want a large Cherry Coke, large fries, and a Big Mac, ASAP,"

"Ok,” I say, “will that be all?"

"Yes,"

"That will be $7.37, at the next window,"

That person was so bossy, but I have to be nice, or else I'm fired. I've already had one slip-up with my anger at a customer.

The person drives up to the window, and is tapping the side of their car with impatience. It's an old man, and he looks like he hates everything except prune juice and bingo. He's in a car that's just about the same age as him. "Come on, already!" he says.

I take the drink and the bag to the window, and after he pays, and I give him his change, I start to hand the food to him.

"Yo, Nikie!" I hear from behind me.

I jump and I accidentally spill the person's drink on them.

"Oh, you clumsy bitch!" he yells.

I rush to get some napkins, and I hand them to the man. He snatches them out of my hand, and scratches my hand with his nails.

"Ouch! What the fuck?! Why did you scratch me?" I yell at him.

"You deserved it!"

"Well-"

"NIKIE!" I hear the manager yell.

The manager is a large, african-american man, and he is very intimidating. He walks up and stands right behind me.

I hang my head, and the person drives away. 

"Second strike, Nicole,” he says, shaking his head, “Hand me you visor, and go change in bathroom, and return your uniform,"

I do as he says, and I'm crying as I drive home. I park outside my apartment, and I sit there and cry. "Is anything else going to for wrong for me this week?” I whine, “First grandpa, now this?" I cry to myself. I cry for a bit longer, until someone taps on my car window. I look up, and I can't recognize the man who knocked. 

He has a rather pointed face, and black, spiky hair that accents his features perfectly. His skin is a greyish color, but it fades into what he's wearing, which is a black cloak. His eyes are a very light shade of yellow. "Are you alright?" he asks. He has a British accent.

"Yea," I say wiping tears from my face.

"Wait. You can see and hear me?" he looks very bewildered.

"Yeah..."

"So, you either fear me or believe that I'm real,"

"Who are you?"

"I'm known as either Pitch Black, or the Bogeyman,"

"Well, my mother told me about you, and I never had reason to fear you. I don't get frightened easily,"

He just looks at me, almost relieved. "May I join you?" he asks.

I unlock my car, and he walks around the front of my car.

He sits in the passenger seat, and he just stares at me.

"What?" I ask him.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

This catches me off guard. "Umm.....I don't know. You wouldn't understand,"

"You'd be surprised,"

I sigh, and I recount what happened. "...and on top of that," I continue, "My grandfather died three days ago,". I start to cry again, and he puts his hand on my shoulder.

"It's ok," he says, "I'm here for you now,"

I smile. I turn to him, but he disappeared.


	2. The Chosen One

It's Christmas now, and, for some reason, Pitch has left me alone. Was it something I said, or did he have something to do? I'm walking down the main street in the city where I live, careful not to step on icy patches. I stop in front of a small swarm of kids, all in ragged clothing, singing Christmas carols. The smallest of them is holding a rusty tin can, obviously for money. I get out my wallet, and I put a five dollar bill into the cup.

The child stares at me, continues singing, and smiles the biggest smile I've ever seen.

I smile back, and I continue walking. After waiting at a crosswalk for a bit, I start to cross, and the little kid from before dashes past me. I hear honking from my left, and I see some idiot taxi driver careening toward the light. I then notice that they were driving on ice, so they were trying to be a good driver, but failed. I dash at the kid, grab them, and lightly toss them to the other side of the street. Another pedestrian grabs the kid mid air, but I know I won't make it in time. My eyes are open the entire time. I see the blinding light or the taxi. I feel it slam into me, and I feel like I'm being crushed. As I start to black out, I see red oozing everywhere as I lay, motionless, under the car. I black out fully. But, suddenly, I wake up. I'm in an old Victorian house, in a guest bedroom. I sit up, and look around, and I find that there is a man sitting by the window of the room, looking at me while smoking a cigarette. I sit up, still staring at the man. I blink, and when I look at him again, he looked older. How is that possible?

"Well, look who's awake," he says, "How was your nap?"

"Who are you?" I ask.

"Well, down to brass tacks already," he muses, "Most call me Grimm, others call me Death,"

I gasp, and stand up. "You're the Grim Reaper?" I ask, "Am I dying?"

He starts to laugh. "Don't say it in the past tense," he says, "You are dead. Period. That taxi killed you, but you saved that child. This showed me that you have what it takes," He takes a draw from his cigarette.

I stare at my hands, trying to make sure my mind understands that I'm not alive anymore, but here I am, standing, talking, breathing. "I have what it takes to do what?" I ask, staring him in his scarlet eyes.

"To take over my job, lamb," he says. He stands up, and walks in front of me. He's about seven feet tall, which is an amazing sight. He puts his hand on my shoulder. "You're going to be the next Grim Reaper," he says, smiling at me.

I back away from him slightly. "But," I stammer, "I don't want to kill people…"

"You won't be killing them, per say," he says, "You just decide if they survive or not,"

I nod, and find that I have no other protests or questions.

"Alright," Grimm says, "Since we got that out of the way, I will train you,"

"Train me?" I ask.

"Yes," he laughs, "You need to learn how to Reap properly. Your training starts…now,". He snaps his fingers, and I black out again.


	3. New Calling

I'm walking down the street of a small town called Burgess, heading toward the graveyard. I'm wearing a black hoodie (hood pulled up), ripped black jeans, black high-tops, and my Scythe slung across my back. I have risen to my full height of seven and a half feet, my proportions filling out correctly. I've also lost all of my hair and gone almost completely skeletal, so it's difficult to discern whether I'm male or female. I can barely remember who I was. All I know is that I died. I'm only known as Grim, or Death.  I'm not worried about people seeing me, because most people can't. Only those afraid of Death, or those about to die.

The sleepy little town is blanketed in snow, the work of Jack Frost, who tends to steer clear of me. Regardless, as I round a corner, I pass a boy of about fifteen years old. 

He has light brown hair, is wearing a blue and red vest, tan shirt, jeans, and boots. He's pulling along a seven year old girl.

The little girl is wearing a full, pink snow-suit. She has a light blue hat on, and I can see long, dirty blonde hair poking out from under it. She's jumping into every snowbank she walks by, and giggling the whole time.

"C'mon, Soph," the boy says, "let's get home. North will be here tomorrow night, so we need to set up for him, okay?"

"Okay," the little girl says, and she runs after him.

As the boy passes me though, he glances at me, and we make eye contact for a good five seconds. This surprises me, because he shouldn't be able to see me.

I stop in my tracks, and look back at the boy, to see him looking at me as well.

_ Might as well, _ I think to myself as I start to follow him. As I follow him and his sister to their house, I catch him glancing back at me on occasion. When we reach their house, though, I stop at their front gate. I can't enter a person's house unless they invite me in.

"Hey, mom," I can hear the boy say, "I'm just gonna walk around for a bit more, okay? I'll grab my hat, gloves, and scarf, yes,". He exits the house again wearing hand knitted mittens, scarf, and hat, all green with a blue stripe. He walks toward me, but stops halfway to the gate. "Who are you?" he asks me.

I don't answer. I just motion for him to follow, and I turn the way we came. I follow the way that I was going, heading toward the graveyard, the boy walking next to me. We reach the graveyard, and I walk up to the largest mausoleum. I sit on the top step, and gesture for him to do the same.

The boy sits next to me, and he's staring at me. I just stare forward, though.

"Are you going to tell me your name," I say to the boy. My voice is as smooth as it has always been, just a tad deeper, and with a slight British accent.

The boy jumps slightly. He probably didn't expect me to talk. "Uh," he says, "Jamie. Jamie Bennett,"

"Hello, Jamie," I say, "My name is Grim. Grim Reaper,"

"I kind of figured," he says, "Are you here to…to take someone…to the other side?"

"If you're wondering why that's how you can see me, no," I say, "you are nowhere near death, my boy,"

He sighs in relief. "But," he says, "how  _ can _ I see you?"

"That's what I would like you to tell me," I say, "Do you have any idea?"

He starts to say something, but then a gust of wind blows the light, powdery snow off of the mausoleum steps.

I stand up, putting my left hand back to where my scythe is. I put my other hand in front of Jamie as he stands up.

Landing as lightly as the snow itself, Jack Frost alights just in front of the first step. He stares up and me, a mix of fear and confusion on his face. "Jamie!" he says.

"Jack!" Jamie says, ducking under my arm and racing down the stairs toward Jack, "Why are you here?"

"I'd like to ask the same question," Jack says, "to both of you,"

"Correction," a voice from behind me says, "the three of us,". It's a strangely familiar, deep, suave voice, with the same accent as the previous Reaper. A man walks out from the shadows behind me, and stands next to me. He's familiar, with is dark cloak, spiky hair, and raven-like pointed face. He barely comes up to my shoulder, but when he notices this, he grows taller, making the shadows around us shrink.

"Pitch," Jack says, holding his staff like a weapon, and lightly shoving Jamie behind him, "why are you here?"

"You tell us first," Pitch says, gesturing to all of us, "and then I'll tell you,"

"Alright," Jack says, "I noticed Jamie wasn't home, so I went looking for him. I found him here with…them," he gestures toward me.

"Your turn," Pitch mutters to me.

I look at him, and raise an eyebrow. "Fine," I say, "I was intrigued that Jamie could see me, even if he's nowhere near death. Not for a few decades, at least. So, I followed him to his house, and in turn, he followed me here,"

"Wait, you followed him to his house?" Jack says, "Did you go inside his house, or…"

"No," I say, "I can't, unless I'm invited in. Or someone in the house is dying,"

Jack just crinkles his nose, then nods. "I'll be taking Jamie home now," Jack says, "after Pitch tells us why he's here,"

"Oh, yes," Pitch says, "well, I've been working with Sandman, actually, to give nightmares to children and parents who deserve them. And I help with dreams and nightmares that get too out of hand. North calls it my 'Punishment' but I consider it more of a…career adjustment,"

"No one deserves nightmares," Jack says.

"You should see the people I have to deal with," Pitch says, "then you may change your mind,"

Jack just shakes his head, and grabs Jamie's wrist. "Well," he says, "Jamie and I will be going now,". And he jumps into the air, getting picked up by the wind, taking Jamie with him.

"You're name was Nicole, wasn't it?" Pitch says to me.

I furrow my brows, and then look at him. 

He staring at me like he's trying to see any familiar thing between me and this Nicole he's talking about.

"I can't remember," I say, "All I know is that I died, and was chosen by the previous Reaper to continue his work,"

Pitch just frowns slightly, and places his hand on my shoulder.

Suddenly, I get a flash of a small, dirty child, an icy street, and car headlights heading toward me. I gasp and step away from Pitch.

"I'm sorry," he says, "I just needed to do a quick search,"

"Of what, my mind?" I say, rubbing my forehead.

"Yes," he says, "those memories were hidden deep,"

I nod.

Suddenly, lights shoot across the sky. They start as green, then fade into blue.

"Huh," Pitch says, "North is signaling a meeting of the Guardians,"

I nod again.

"Someday, I wish that I could answer those lights, like a true Guardian," Pitch mutters, pain punctuating every word.

Suddenly the lights turn red.

"Uh oh," Pitch says, "something's wrong. The lights only turn red when there's danger,"

Suddenly, Jamie comes running back into the graveyard. "Grim!" he yells, "Jack…he..he's been kidnapped!"

I rush up to him, and grab him by his shoulders, kneeling in front of him. "Tell me exactly what happened," I say.

"He landed on the sidewalk in front of my house," Jamie starts, "and not even a minute after we landed, these…rope like things erupted from the ground, and started to constrict around him. Then, in a flash of light and a sound like a whip, he was gone! And then I saw the northern lights, and they turned red, so I thought I would find you and get your help,"

I sigh, and try to think of who would have kidnapped Jack. "Let's get to the Pole," I say, "You're coming with us, Jamie,"

"But my mom will notice," he says, "I can't,"

"Just a second," Pitch says. He waves his hand, and a fine black dust flies through the air toward Jamie's house. "That will make it look like you're in bed," he says.

"Ready to leave?" I ask Jamie.

He looks from me, to Pitch and back, and then he nods.

I nod back, and rise to my full height. I grab Jamie lightly under his armpits, and I focus, imagining a raven unfolding its wings. I feel the same happen on my back, and I take off, heading north, flying as fast as the wind.


End file.
